Reptilia
by Ericka Jane
Summary: Dean doesn't expect things to go down like this. Which is stupid really, because when in the history of Winchester do things ever go the way they plan? Rated for brief language. Just something light and fun.


**Reptilia **

Dean doesn't expect things to go down like this. Which is stupid really, because when in the history of Winchester do things ever go the way they plan? But this…this is just something new altogether. First of all, they didn't even know the things existed. Sure, there are myths and stories just like everything else they hunt, but Dean was ready to file this away in the 'bullshit' cabinet and call it a day. Sam wasn't having it. And that's what it always seems to come down to: Sam's damn stubbornness.

So when they go into the sewers to investigate, Dean really isn't expecting to find anything. He lets Sam take point with the flashlight and his gun, and trails easily behind him. His own gun is in his hand, dangling at his side casually.

"This is stupid, man," Dean states from behind Sam, kicking away a plastic bag that has gotten stuck on his foot.

"Shut up," Sam replies shortly, concentrating on the sewer tunnels in front of him.

Dean rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything, deciding that the "I told you so," will be sweeter later.

Or at least, it would've been, if at that very moment a crackly, bird-like sound didn't echo through the tunnels.

Sam pauses and Dean tenses, "Was that you?"

Shaking his head slowly, Sam proceeds. Dean's right behind him, going through a mental list of all the things that could sound like a fricken dinosaur with a chest cold. He has an answer but it's too ridiculous, and it'd mean admitting that Sam was right, which is against the big brother code.

Suddenly Sam stops and Dean has to backtrack a bit to keep from running into him. He glares at the back of Sam's head in annoyance but the feeling disappears when Sam whispers, "Dean, look."

Sam doesn't sound scared, he sounds more fascinated, maybe awe-struck. Dean frowns and cautiously steps to the side to that he can look around his brother's sasquatch form.

"Holy shit!"

The exclamation causes the creature they're staring at to stir in its sleep. It curls in on itself tightly like a napping kitten. Sam shifts cautiously and then tucks his gun in the back of his jeans. After his weapon is holstered, Sam starts to slowly make his way forward.

"Sam, wait a second," Dean protests but doesn't move to stop him, afraid that any sudden, loud movements will awaken the slumbering beast.

"S'ok, Dean, it's just a baby."

"Babies usually have mommies," Dean retorts as he studies the tunnels, looking for any evidence of said mommy.

"I don't think this one does; dragons don't usually leave their young alone. I think he's an orphan," Sam replies as he crouches down in front of the baby dragon, which is curled up on a soggy cardboard box. Hesitantly, Sam reaches a hand out.

Dean watches with trepidation as Sam's fingers get closer and closer to the dragon, and his own hands tighten on his gun, "Sam…"

Sam's pointer finger reaches out to lightly stroke the visible part of the dragon's belly. The dragon stretches, relaxing under Sam's touch. Then its eyes pop open. For a quick second, bright, metallic gold eyes stare at the youngest Winchester, and then it's on its feet, backing up until it's tail hits the wall. It hisses, sounding a lot like a lizard/cat hybrid. Sam places his hands out in front of him, the universal signal of surrender and "I come in peace."

"Hey, it's ok, little guy. Not gonna hurt you," Sam murmurs as he tentatively reaches a hand out again to try and coax the dragon to come to him.

"Sam, it's a dragon not a dog!" Dean points out, "Let's just put it down so we can get outta here."

"Dean!" Sam hisses as if he's completely offended by the idea, and goes back to the task of winning over the baby dragon's trust.

"C'mon," Sam waits patiently and still with his hand out stretched until the dragon tentatively nudges him. The smile on Sam's face resembles the grin he used to have on Christmas morning when they were kids, excited and wondrous.

The glittering teal dragon is no longer hissing, instead he's cocking his head curiously at Sam.

"It's ok," Sam tries again and stretches his hand a little bit further to rub the top of it's scaly head. The dragon recoils for a moment but quickly decides it likes the attention Sam is giving him.

"Is it…is it _purring_?"

"All creatures have signs of affection, Dean."

"Affection. Right."

Sam's smile drops for a second so he can glare at his sibling.

"Do you think wendigos show affection? Just sayin'," Dean replies.

"It's not the same."

"Whatever. Ok you've seen the dragon, it exists, now let's shake a leg and get out of here."

"We can't just leave it," Sam argues, as he curls his hand and cradles the dragon in his hand. He brings him to his chest like a kitten and continues to rub a finger down it's back. Now that Dean has a good view of it in Sam's hands, he has to admit that the thing is really cool looking. It's about the size of a rabbit with pearlescent blue and teal skin. The wings are small and webbed, and look soft. Then there are the bright gold eyes, which Dean imagines can look pretty menacing under the right circumstances, but right now they look innocent and inquisitive.

"Sam, it'll be fine down here with all the mice and stuff. Put it back and let's go."

"If it doesn't have socialization it'll become violent and could hurt people," Sam replies and smiles as the dragon's eyes drop sleepily.

Dean sighs, "Then we need to put it down. It's monster, Sam."

"Does it look like a dangerous monster, Dean?" The statement has some bite to it and a glower to go with it.

"It will eventually."

"We can take it and make sure it doesn't hurt anyone. We can keep it safe."

"You're joking, right?"

Sam just cradles it closer and turns around, beginning the trek out of the tunnel.

"Damn it, Sammy," Dean exclaims as he starts following his sibling out of the sewers.

When they break daylight Sam tucks the dragon into his jacket to hide it from view.

"Sam," Dean warns as he glares at the hand the Sam has hidden in his jacket, "No. No way in hell are we keeping that."

Sam frowns, "But, Dean…"

"C'mon, man, it's a dragon! ," Dean annunciates and then points to the Impala, "Car," he points back to the prehistoric reptile, "Dragon. What part of that sounds like a good idea? That thing is going to get huge!"

"No, it won't!" Sam protests, cradling the turquoise bundle closer to his chest, "It's a dwarf!"

Dean deadpans, "A dwarf dragon?"

"It probably won't get any bigger than a tire."

"Uh huh. And what, you don't think that people aren't going to notice us carrying around a green, tire-sized lizard with fricken wings? What are you going to do when the thing starts spewing fire everywhere?" Dean spreads his arms to imitate the 'fire spewage.'

Sam sighs, rolling his eyes, "We don't even know if it's a fire breathing dragon."

"And we're not going to find out, either."

"So, what're we going to do? Just leave it here for someone else to find?" Sam argues with a tinge of sarcasm.

Dean sighs, hating that he has to say this, "Sam, you _know_ what we have to do."

Sam glares and tucks the dragon closer, "We are_ not_ killing him."

'Him.' Not 'it,' but 'him.' Dean's so screwed. Combine that with Sam's classic, "I've made up my mind, try and stop me" voice, and he figures he has a better chance of re-locating a mountain.

"We can't keep it," he tries again weakly, "Why the hell do you think we never got a dog?"

"Because dad was allergic."

"And we live on the road! We aren't going to be able to keep it a secret!"

"Well we're going to have to try, because I'm not leaving without him and you won't leave without me."

Dean knows he's lost and he's pissed about it. The last time Sam made such a determined, defiant statement he was leaving a shitty motel room for Stanford.

"If it rips up the car, if it sets the car on fire, if it attacks anyone, or if someone tries to come after us because of it, it goes. Understand? Non-negotiable."

"Ok, dad."

Dean glares, "You're hilarious."

"I know."

He doesn't want to admit it but the smile on Sam's face as he slides into the passenger seat, dragon cradled safely in his arms, almost makes Dean feel ok about caving. Not totally, but almost.

"What're you gonna name it?"

Sam looks down at the sleeping reptile, pure affection on his face.

"Falkor."

Dean rolls his eyes, "You are such a nerd."

A/N: Just something light hearted, which is a little bit different from what I usually do. I was on a mission to finish half-finished fics I've had hanging around for a long time (this one is from 2011). I might add more chapters to it later if the inspiration hits. Falkor is, of course, from the _Never Ending Story, _which I don't own. Hope you enjoyed it!


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